Floating in space
by Lohis
Summary: What if 'Bee hadn't caught Arcee? Post mini-series 'Darkness Rising'. No pairing.


_**Just a small something I felt like writing after re-watching the whole TF Prime series for the umpteenth time. I have really never thought about writing an Arcee-fic, but here's the result. Comments are appreciated!  
>Rating: T<strong>_  
><em><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own anything.<strong>_

~o0o~

"_Nice bike."_

"_Arcee, really, Miko already tried. Tell Optimus I respect him big time, but if you're at war with the Decepticons, there's nothing I can do to help."_

"_Optimus didn't send me, and no one's asking for your help."_

"_Okay, so if we both agree that I'm not warrior material…"_

"_Jack, I just lost someone I cared about, maybe it's the grief talking… maybe you're growing on me. Whatever it is, I'm not ready to say goodbye."  
><em>

~o0o~

Her optics flickered. It was dark, cold. Her frame felt heavy, like she would be dragging the whole damn 'Con warship behind her and yet; she was constantly moving. _Floating_. Slowly.

She could feel a few pieces of debris brushing up against her body, leaving faint scratches in their wake. The silence was deafening.

"W-where…?"

~o0o~

"_Where to?"_

"_The final frontier."_

"_Space? I thought they didn't have any way to get there."_

"_They don't really."_

"_Be seeing you?"_

"_Autobots, roll out!"_

~o0o~

I should've said something. I should have opened my mouth and said something, anything. Instead I shrugged. I slammed the very door at his face. After everything I had dumped on him; the loss of Cliffjumper, the annoyance of having to babysit humans… I said nothing. I left, knowing I might not return and still decided it was better to let silence speak louder than the words I weren't able to form, to vocalize. I left with a small smirk on my lip plates.

But he might not have seen it the same way… He might have needed a few reassuring phrases, a voice to remember. Words to return to, to ponder over, to make him feel… less guilty. Words and wisdom he could've passed on to others.

Who am I kidding? I don't have such wisdom. But… No doubt Jack would've wanted to hear _something_.

It spiraled around us, green with red and pinkish lashes, dashes of clear white and blue rotating, swirling, and I could feel those human eyes on me. Those dark blue eyes never wavering, never turning to look away, watching as I ran with my comrades through the vortex, fear flashing in them, fear for my uncertain return through that very gate.

~o0o~

Pieces of the fight replayed behind her optics, quick flashes of images, minute twitches of reflexes, unbearable disrupts of pain. The image of the purple blast closing in on her, inching towards her and finally licking her forehead in an agonizing blaze. The femme gasped at the recollection.

~o0o~

"_Here comes the welcoming committee!"_

~o0o~

My blasters held ready I watched the enemy swoop from the battleship towards us. Bumblebee on my left, Optimus behind him and Bulkhead on my right tail I knew my back was covered. I could fight without fright or unease, fight until my servos ached from the heat and stress, fight for my ruined home I was longing to see rebuild. We couldn't let them lock on to Cybertron, we couldn't let Megatron raise our fallen friends and sparkless foes with Dark Energon. I couldn't let them suffer the same agonizing, mindless offline-yet-alive existence as Cliffjumper had.

I just couldn't.

I wouldn't.

It wasn't right. It was wrong, just… _wrong_.

...Cliff...

~o0o~

They landed. I went hand to hand with them. Baring my blades I slashed and sliced, stabbed at them with all my might. Optics cold with emotionless calmness, numbness in my processor and spark, weightlessness that I always fell into in the heat of battle. Those Vehicons were in between me and the completion of my and my teammates' mission. It was either the enemy or I, and I…

I had to survive.

I hadn't promised, but I had to. I always came back, I always had, even if my comrades hadn't been so lucky. I didn't know if it was my skills as a warrior or if it was some twisted humor from the Creator that I would be the last soldier standing on the ragged battlefield, but I always stood in the end. Sometimes leaking with Energon, crippled, close to offlining, but _always_ the last one to stand.

~o0o~

"_What was that?"_

"_The Decepticons are locking on to Cybertron."_

~o0o~

The Bridge came to life. With little interception the Dark Energon made it through.

But Ratchet had a plan.

Optimus stayed behind, to buy us some time. 'Bee, Bulk and I, we hurried to the underside of the Spacebridge contraption. There was a swarm, _an_ _army_, of undead transformers closing in on the portal, _in_ the portal. We had to hurry. I had to hurry.

~o0o~

"_Ratchet, were in position."_

"_Now follow the line from the flow regulator to the Energon pump, there should be a valve."_

"_I see it."_

"_Good. To turn that power against itself all you need to do is reverse the current."_

"_Current reversed."_

~o0o~

The others covered me as I worked. It took a moment for the 'Cons to realize that we weren't running, to realize what we were really doing and soon, though late enough, Megatron closed in on us and unleashed his cannons. We fired back, but I was hit. The shot burning my helm, scorching it with a smeared black mark. Unconsciousness took me as I drifted further and further away from the rocky basis of the Bridge. My last clear memory being that of the bridge shattering into thousand little pieces and Optimus saying something. Something like _'jump'_.

~o0o~

Perhaps I was _–am-_ lucky. That shot saved me, in a way. At least, judging by the debris and junk metal surrounding me, I wasn't in the middle of the explosion. The explosion that the others… might not have survived of. No, think positive. They survived.

My back collided with the hard surface of a piece of asteroid rubble. Pain throbbed in every limb.

Well, for now, Cybertron was safe. The mission had been a success. I should be glad, right?

But if I truly was as lucky –or as cursed- as in previous battles, shouldn't I be the last one to remain online? The last to stand?

"... I'm sorry, Optimus, Ratchet... Bumblebee... Bulk..."

I clenched my servos weakly.

"And I... I'm sorry... Jack," I whispered into the freezing nothingness of the space, my optics flickering dimly in the bluish shine of the planet Earth. "There are other motorcycles in the world."

~o0o~

"_But you were my first."_


End file.
